Interred with Their Bones
by letyoursoul
Summary: Mischief is just so tempting, especially for Tony Stark.
1. Chapter 1

A sickening drawl of laughter.

"Do not think you can trick us, Asgardian." The God of Mischief whirled his mind, searching for a way to do just that. "Not again." The clutching hand dropped his neck and vanished. All vanished, in fact, leaving Loki alone on the desolate rocks.

He sighed, reminding himself to be calm. However, he didn't take kindly to being used as petty bait.

_

Stark Tower was a bright glowing light bulb, making fun of the surrounding buildings for their inferior power. Inside the shine, the Avengers celebrated along with 200 of Tony's closest friends. He had finally done it—created a new element, all on his own, to serve as a source of unlimited power. He had spent countless insomniac nights slamming his head into diagrams and notes on the Tesseract, blowing holes through his lab walls and blaming Pepper, and mixing chemicals most of the world couldn't pronounce, and now he'd done it.

Naturally, he threw a giant, tacky party.

He called the substance Veridite, and it glowed with a just-barely-visible green hue. It glowed out of his arc reactor, and out of the newly designed compatible light bulbs in the lounge room, where past-drunk young women tried to steal a moment of the genius' attention.

"Congratulations, Stark," Steve slapped a friendly pat on Tony's shoulder. "You've really changed the world this time."

Tony grinned and wobbled the ice in his glass. "That's what I'm here for, right?"

"Hey!" Stark yelled above the din of the room, "Hey, let's have a toast. To uh. Me!" A roar of approval. "No but really uh. How about a toast to the future, and the possibilities, and uh. Progress!". He wildly flailed his glass into the air, and the room did the same.

"So articulate," Clint muttered at his side, biting back a laugh. Tony rolled his eyes and poured himself another drink. Low bass droned out of the surround sound system.

The Avengers had been staying in Stark tower for some time now. Nick Fury had rounded them up again after another alien race had descended into the city, seemingly having learned from Loki's portal. After yet another attack, they formed a constant force, fighting for the human race, and also eating breakfast together.

In a sudden crash of lightning, the power flickered. The room went silent, stunned. Tony's eyes widened in horror. Could a sudden storm really compromise his perfect power…?

There was a booming noise, a thud, the eyes of the room flicked around nervously. And then, the door burst open.

A giant blonde Thunder God grinned wildly from the doorway.

"My friends!" Thor yelled. The party nervously chuckled and went back to their drunken revelry.

"What are you doing here?" Tony asked, but he smiled.

Thor gave him a rough hug and then grew somber. "My br—Loki has escaped prison and is no longer in Asgard. He is shrouded from Heimdal's vision and I hoped to come here and make certain he has not returned to Midgard. No troubles here, I hope?"

Bruce emerged from a corner. "Nothing Loki-related. How did he escape?"

"We do not know," Thor hung his head sadly, and Tony thought how much he'd missed this guy, and also thought how bad it might be for them that Loki had escaped.

"He seems to have teleported. But I know not how. Such magic is blocked in our prisons…"

"If he was here, we'd have gotten him by now. We've all been staying here." Natasha jumped in. She didn't smile.

Tony looked around at the worried expressions in his immediate surroundings and began to panic that his party was being out shined by that little shit Loki and his little problems. "Hey, guys, come on, we're trying to party here. Thor, its good to see you man, don't worry about little brother for a bit. Have a drink, stay a while. In case the rest of the galaxy hasn't heard, I just changed the god damn world." He raised his eyebrows at Steve, who chuckled. Thor heaved out a sigh and accepted a glass that Tony produced swiftly from the bar.

"Yes, alright. I have heard word, Stark. Very impressive.". Thor downed the glass of whiskey in one swallow, and the group quickly forgot about the escaped God of Mischief for the rest of the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

The journey—no, free fall—to Earth had not been entirely pleasant, and Loki rubbed his temples for a moment to regain his composure. He had landed in a pile of discarded furniture in an alleyway, on one knee, stirring up a cloud of dust. This city was appalling to him, and he bit back a swell of disgust. Loki pushed himself to his feet and grasped his fingers more closely around his scepter. There was no turning back now…it repeated over and over in his mind…no turning back now…

_

Tony was passed out face down diagonally across his bed with two naked women sprawled beside him and one draped over a chair in the corner. Every genius has his vice, right? Tony Stark had…well, several.

From downstairs, the bass filtered lazily up through the stories. The party had ended, but the music played on, serenading the leftover guests in their alcohol induced comas.

Thor had monopolized the couch; the other Avengers had retreated quietly to their rooms, shaking their heads at Tony.

That hazy glow of dawn was playing at the sky line. Tony shifted a bit, groaning in his light sleep. His eyes blinked open for just a moment, and he thought he saw an angular silhouette standing his his room. His pulse jumped. Then, convincing himself he was dreaming, fluttered his eyelids back down and resumed sleep.

Loki stood very still as he looked down at the scene in a sickening mixture of hatred and fascination. His lips held together in a tight line. _I too was once a prince, _he thought.

"What the hell happened, Jarvis?" Tony demanded some hours later, as he slammed impatient fingers against computer screens. His research had been hacked. All that information had been opened, seen, stolen maybe. But who…? He took breaths to calm himself, checking records, sliding open file after file. Who at that party could have gotten into his lab in the first place, much less hacked into his secure files on Veridite?

"Last night's security footage is unavailable, sir. I have also been tampered with." Jarvis said, almost regretfully. As if he feared Tony's rage himself.

He pushed a hand through his hair. "Alright. Al-fucking-right then. You're going to look harder, Jarvis. You're going to tell me who was in my stuff, and you're going to tell me what happened."

Tony staggered back into the elevator and into the main floor of Stark Tower. The rooms were littered with post-party debris. Thor had his feet propped up on a table.

"Stark! You have awakened. Wonderful evening." Thor grinned at him, then dropped it when he saw the look on the other man's face. "What's the matter? It's not Loki, is it? Is he here?" Happy to frantic in ten seconds.

"Worse. Some shithead hacked my files last night. I'm going to have to do some serious tinkering to relocate the surveillance footage so I can find out who it was and kick their ass."

"Is anything missing?" Thor questioned.

"No, no. But it's sensitive information. I can't just have it floating around in the wrong hands. I don't know how this could have happened." He rubbed his face again, and wandered towards the bar, ignoring the fact that it was about nine in the morning.

Tony Stark tipped the glass back and tried to decide just what the hell to do.

As if by some glorious force of earthly magic, his friends has managed to clean up his destroyed penthouse and erase all evidence that there had been a party. As the Avengers stood anxiously around the room, they appeared to be a professional enough team in the stark, modern room. Professional, aside from Tony, of course.

"Stark…whoever was looking through your files is long gone now. There really isn't any more we can do until a threat materializes," Steve was talking in his leader voice, and Tony rolled his eyes, if affectionately.

"He's right," Natasha murmured. The glow of city daylight turned her hair an unnatural deep red.

Tony heaved a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, yeah. And soon somebody will be on the news copyrighting my damn ideas. And that will be the first I hear about it. I still want to question every damn person who was here last night. Especially the ones I didn't invite. Or hey, maybe it was somebody I did invite."

"Surely you're not suggesting that anyone you trust—"

"Implying I trust anyone?"

There was a heavy silence. Tony almost felt bad that he had hurt their feelings. Almost.

Maybe a little bit.

"Alright, look, we'll forget about it. You're right. Nothing to do but wait. '_Time is very slow for those who wait, very fast for those who are scared_'—"

"Are you quoting Shakespeare?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

"So what if I am?" Tony shook his head in mock-snobbery, and the others left him then, laughing.

_Don't hate on William_, Tony thought as he took another drink.

Somewhere between space and the nine realms, Loki waited. He twirled a slithering strand of green magic through the fingers of his right hand, then flicked it elegantly into his left hand, and back again, pacing back and forth in a dark, rocky chasm. He whispered something with a quiet intensity, closing his eyes, the sound falling out in feathery tendrils all around him. His limbs ached with anticipation, restlessly moving all on their own. And then, it pulled together—the element. Veridite. It glowed brilliantly in the void and came to rest at the tip of the a scepter he materialized, and gripped with two hands before him.

A smile pulled at his mouth, and his eyes narrowed with purpose.

Ah, wouldn't the Chitauri be pleased. He had stolen back what he had lost with the tesseract, and all the better this time around. He had taken the plans, the science, everything. It was all right there, in his mind. And once again, they had believed that he would relinquish such power to them? Hilarious.

And this time, he wouldn't be defeated by a middle man.

In the murky sea-green glow of the Veridite scepter, Loki's eyes flicked heavenward. He no longer had any desire to be a revered king. Instead, he would be the reviled villain he always knew he must be.

He would take it all, and smile as he did.


	3. Chapter 3

The Chitauri were back in New York, and it was "Avengers assemble!" and "All systems go!" all around. Thor, still looking a bit sleep deprived and tired from his endless and fruitless search for his missing brother, grabbed his trusty hammer and seemed to come back to life when Midgard was threatened. Clint was whipping a pack of newly designed Stark Industries poison heat-seeking arrows on his back, and Natasha was slinking through the alleyways like a very determined stray cat. Bruce had disappeared, but no one was really worried that he wouldn't be back soon, or at least, some version of him would be back. And Steve…Steve was barking orders at Tony to "get the heck out here, we need you!"

Tony was frozen in place on the roof of Stark Tower, face to face with the ugliest son of a bitch he'd ever laid eyes on. Apparently, he was Chitauri. And he wanted his stuff.

"Nobody can take my stuff," Tony mumbled, though the retort was rather ineffectual against this rather intimidating foe.

"Your science will be of use to us. We had sent someone to take it from you, but he has betrayed us. Now, we come to do our own bidding," The voice rasped out from shadowed features. Ahead, storm clouds blocked out what was left of the evening's light. Tony held back a shiver, not hearing Steve's voice, now growing frantic in his earpiece.

"What is going on Stark are you alright do you copy Stark where are you"

"Well, as I always say, if you want something done right, do it your—"

The creature snarled, a low, menacing sound that shut Tony right the hell up.

"If you will not relinquish your materials willingly, we will take them by force."

Tony stared at him. He almost dared him with his eyes. Sometimes, Tony wondered if there was a limit to his stupidity. And then usually he'd laugh and decide he didn't care.

In a blink or two, the creature was hurtled down from the roof and landed with an impressive smash on the lower balcony. Ah, Banner. Always to be counted on, you big green pal, you.

The rest was a blur. Tony was jumping into the suit, flying recklessly down to join the others as they battled the rest of the Chitauri forces as they charged the base of Stark Tower.

"Don't tell me this is all about you, Tony. Don't you dare tell me that we are"—a pause, the sound of something dying—"doing all this shit to protect your god damn formulas," Clint was barking over the earpiece and Tony was laughing and shooting aimlessly into a clump of Chitauri minions. He almost loved this feeling. Important.

Powerful.

And then they retreated, and the Avengers, looking rather haggard, but victorious nonetheless, retired to Stark Tower to regroup. Tony had other plans.

"I'll catch up in a bit, guys," he said shortly, before flying himself way the fuck away.

Tony Stark: The Man of Iron. He was watching himself walk in window reflections in some godforsaken corner of the city. No suit, no devices on, just walking. He almost felt…unsatisfied. Kind of like waking up after one of his parties. Knowing that eventually, the party ended.

His brain was a bit of a jumble and he wondered if any of this thoughts were legitimate. It had to be two, three in the morning? The streets were surprisingly quiet here.

He thought about his father, and wondered if he had any right to still hate him the way that he did. Just because he was _different_. He wondered if his father would have let an alien race send a spy to steal his formulas while he got laid a few stories up.

He thought about crowds screaming for him, treating him like some kind of revered genius, some proud hero. Why did the though make his stomach turn? He wondered for a moment or two what it would feel like if any of it were real. He had his hands in his pockets and his eyes locked on the dirty sidewalk. It disgusted him, and he wanted to be back on shag rugs and Egyptian cotton and sipping expensive whiskey but no…he needed to absorb a little darkness. Or something.

Maybe a drink?

_'Very long for those who lament…'_

He ducked inside some shady bar and hoped no one would recognize him. Pounded on the counter and was answered with two shots of whatever, which promptly disappeared. And then an angular, pale hand held another shot to him. Tony slowly raised his eyes and met the gaze of the God of Mischief himself. Loki was casually draped over a bar stool, his legs tucked beneath him, one arm resting on the counter as if he were a regular, his head cocked slightly to the side, watching, _waiting_.

"Rough night?"

Tony didn't move, he just blinked at him like an asshole, and then said, "The fuck?"

"Stark." Shall Tony compare his voice to a summer's day? He took the shot.

"…of Mischief." Tony mumbled in reply.

"Oh, clever." Loki was smirking, an undeniably trademark gesture. "Shouldn't you be celebrating with your…friends?"

"It was you who hacked my files, wasn't it."

"Perhaps you are tired of it," he continued, unfazed. "What is that saying…'_Time is…short for those who celebrate_…'"

Tony snapped upright and faced him, eyes narrowing at the continuation of that same damn Shakespeare quote. The little shit had been spying on him. Loki immediately recognized his indignation, and looked away, amused.

_"But for those who love time is eternal,_" He finished.

"Is there some reason you're here?"

"Do _you_ have a reason?"

"I asked you first."

Loki gave a little mocking humble bow, as if to agree. "That you did. My apologies, Stark. It seems we are both…involved…in a bit of trouble." He rolled an empty glass about in his fingers, and Tony made a mental note that Loki looked damn scary, even if Earthly-attire. "I am rather accustomed to trouble, as you may be aware," he seemed to bite back a smirk, the arrogant little prick, "But you can not handle yourself nearly as well."

"Now wait just a god damned minute. Who was escorted away in chains the last time we met, sir?" Tony felt the sting of alcohol, and also the sting of frustration, confusion, and maybe something else.

Loki dropped his smile, but met Tony's eyes with an even glare. "And who was cast out your window?" He said evenly, then continued, "As it were, I must admit that your…science somewhat eludes me. I battle the same foe that you do, Tony Stark."

The way Loki pronounced his name, like he was sculpting it out of stone, made Tony's limbs prickle a little bit. He bit his lip and tried to look menacing.

And there seemed to be so much more in that damn statement than just the Chitauri.

"I think perhaps you are tired of being a hero, only to be betrayed, to have your time cut short, are you not?" Tony glared at him at that. "How could you know anything about—"

"I know many things, contrary to what I am given credit for," he hissed, his eyes flicking back and forth. A moment of a loss of control. He pulled himself back in.

"What do you say, Man of Iron? Would you stoop so low as to come with me?"

In such a simple statement, Tony gulped back a shudder of fear, knowing absolutely, exactly what he meant, and knowing for absolutely certain that there was no way he could refuse such a piercing temptation. He thought of other worlds, of battling all who stood in his way, of freedom, _power_, boundless and eternal, fighting beside gods, no longer being just a man…and somewhere at the very edges of his consciousness, Tony thought a little bit about inhuman green eyes and lithe fingers and a pale neck…

"Where are we going?"

"I thought we would begin by taking out the Chitauri."

"Alright, okay, say I play along. What's in it for me?" Tony shifted to face Loki more fully as they sat at the bar. The rest of the room went on with it's monotonous business as if a god and a billionaire were not making nefarious deals at the counter.

"As much as it pains me to admit it, _mortal_," Loki sounded almost bored, "I need you."

Tony blinked.

"I mean simply that I am not as familiar with your science and your methods as one from your realm would be. I cannot hope to understand it on my own, and therefore I require your mind. Naturally there will be rewards for you. Namely, I can grant you some of my powers, whatever I can manage. As well as the ability to travel the very _universe_, taking whatever you want in the meantime…"

That was kind of enough to get Tony's attention. Still, Loki stood then, circling Tony as he sat. Loki trailed a hand across the small of his back as he moved—no, glided—around him. He leaned it and hissed in his ear, "Do we have an alliance, Stark?"

Tony Stark gulped and ordered another drink. Loki stood very still and very close. He wondered if anyone else in the room noticed how damn different Loki was. As he knocked back another glass of whatever, he exhaled into the burn as it floated down his throat, his chest, his gut. He thought about all the times the idea of going rogue had played behind his plans, he thought about the look on the Avengers faces when they saw him fighting side by side with Loki, and he smiled, brown eyes shadowed even darker in the dim light.

A handshake. A burst of green light. A shady little bar's night scene was left very confused when the two secretive men at the bar disappeared into thin air.


	4. Chapter 4

"This is bad."

"Shut up, Thor," Clint mumbled.

"I fear the worst."

"THOR." Natasha this time.

"Have we looked everywhere?" Steve said.

Bruce tolerates this statement. "Yes, we have. Something tells me he doesn't want to be found. Did you ever think of that?"

Steve was pacing Stark Tower's lounge floor, not even pretending not to be worried as hell. "I don't want to think that."

"Well, it seems the most likely. It's Tony," Natasha quipped.

The others fell silent again, and stared out the window at the dawn. Yeah, Tony.

Somewhere very far off, Tony wrapped his eager hands around his very own Veridite scepter, and the green glow it threw over his features suited him.

It was three weeks before the Avengers caught sight of Tony or Loki again. Then, as Taylor Swift would say, one typical Tuesday, all Hel broke loose upon Manhattan. The Chitauri were back, after so many days of completely avoiding any tracking radar, and they were pissed. At Tony Stark. And Loki.

In fact, pretty much everyone involved here was pissed at Tony Stark and Loki.

"I know you are hiding him," an alien voice was grinding loudly through the window as a hovercraft loomed menacingly out the window of the tower's main floor. Inside, the whole crew glared back with a combined ferocity of astonishing power.

"You're wrong; we don't have anyone. Either one. Who are you looking for, anyway?" Natasha growled.

"That pestilent mortal Tony Stark," the voice all but choked, as if Tony inspired nausea in more ways than just drinking too much, "who has been taunting us across realms with his creations, killing our people, and scheming with that insolent wretch, Loki of Asgard."

Steve's head was whirring with more than just confusion now. Now something else entirely was starting to creep in. He clenched his fists.

"You don't have any quarrel with us, sir," He spoke evenly. "We do not have what you seek. That's my honest word."

At his side, Clint was squinting like the bird of prey he was. "Lucky for him," he added under his breath. The others shared this particular sentiment at this particular moment.

What the actual fuck, Tony.

"It's not nice to talk about people behind their backs, kids."

Speak of the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Guess who just dropped from the sky, blazing in a very scratched up iron suit. And just behind him, a commandeered Chitauri vessel, which Loki rode like a regular pro. His grin was feral.

"Shit." Bruce absolutely could not place nice any longer. Bruce was no longer Bruce at this point. The window was no longer a window, either.

In the shattering rain of glass, Tony and Loki buzzed into the building just as the big green guy rolled awkwardly onto the balcony, yelling garbled gibberish.

"Miss us?" Tony's voice rattled through the suit and the Avengers all began screaming at him at once.

"Take that as a…guarded yes? I know, it's just so hard to admit feelings sometimes. Anyway, I'll just be grabbing a few things then I'll be on my—"

Hulk: smash.

In a few bzzts of electricity, the suit wasn't going anywhere for a bit. "Ow."

Loki lept off his spacecraft and didn't seem to notice when it shot into a wall and embedded itself there. He darted over to where Tony was practically melted into the floor, full of an aching sense of deja vu. When the others tried to surround him, Loki crouched like a wild animal and bared his teeth, brandishing his Veridite scepter. They backed up instinctively.

"Stark is not to be harmed," he growled.

"Seriously man call me Tony," came a pathetically small voice.

"Alright, alright, we're not gonna hurt him, we just wanna talk," Steve started, but at this point the Chitauri were already shooting in through the broken window, and starting to climb in.

"Second thought, maybe we should rain check that," Clint shouted as they all flew to arms and hardly noticed as Loki pried Tony from the suit and they flew right the hell out of there on Loki's aircraft.


End file.
